Wounded, Waxing and Waning
by Pixie468
Summary: Andrea is suffering after Amy's death. Daryl looks on, and hopes she can begin to heal. - Rated Teen for Language. My first attempt at TWD fanfiction.


This is a work of fan fiction*, and no copyright infringement is intended. The characters and back story do not belong to me.

*It's my first! Hope you like it. :)

Wounded, Waxing and Waning

It was getting dark and quite cool as the fire died down in the campsite. A few glowing embers remained, flickering as a slight wind stirred the quiet summer night that surrounded the small band of survivors.

Andrea shifted her weight on the massive log she and her companions used to relax by the fire. Her left leg had fallen asleep. How long had she been sitting here, staring into the dying flames? She was sitting alone at the moment. No one had spoken to her in quite a while. The others had probably wanted to give her some time to collect her thoughts after such a horrific experience that was their previous day's terror.

That was fine with her. She didn't want to talk about it. The endless horror story repeated itself in her head, like an old record skipping on an old player. Her mind was doing all the talking, and she was almost beyond her breaking point.

Andrea grabbed a small stick at her side, and began to shift the coals in the fire. She drew a star in the ashes. Then a fish, then a heart, and then erased her markings with some quick flicks of her wrist, and a exclamation of anger.

She rubbed her numb leg a few times and rose to head into the RV for the night. She could see Lori and Rick out of the corner of her eye. They were watching her as she started to move away quickly, trying to avoid any interaction they might be thinking about. She heard a soft, "Goodnight Andrea" from Lori, but didn't respond or even look over.

She really wanted to sleep. She was exhausted and wanted the small comfort that the RV offered, even if she had to share it with a few others. Sleep did not come easy now, no matter how many sheep she tried counting, or thoughts of a warm, Florida beach, like her mother had taught her. The image of crashing waves and seagulls would normally bring her comfort, lulling her to sleep easily in the past. Now, she only heard the crashing of the RV door and her sister's screams as she was being bitten and bloodied by the vile walkers. She heard the crashing of plates, the crashing of baseball bats, and tree limbs bashing in the skulls of the undead. It was the stuff of nightmares, not sweet dreams.

_Amy. Oh Amy, I should've done something. I should have protected you._

Andrea felt worthless. She felt like she was just taking up space, taking up food and resources. There was no one to care about any more. She had no family left, no one to love deeply, like she did her sister. What was she to do now?

Andrea let the RV door slam behind her, and sunk down at the table. It was very quiet inside. Too quiet. A minute passed as she tried to quiet her mind. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she thought to herself. It was then that she heard Carl laugh. Carl was Lori and Rick's son, boyish and young, and very intelligent. No doubt Rick told him something funny, and the family was enjoying their time together, even after everything that had happened.

_Family. Enjoying their time together. How pleasant._

"Never again for me…", she spoke aloud to herself. Trying to fight the tears, she took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. It didn't work. A steady stream of big tears flooded her cheeks. They dripped from her nose, and landed on her lips and heaving chest. She lowered her head into her hands and placed them on the table, cupping her face. Sobbing, she squeezed her eyes shut and let all the cramped emotions escape her.

After a few minutes passed, she picked her head up and wiped the remaining tears away with the front of her shirt. She could feel swelling in her eyes, and a slight headache coming on. She leaned back against the cushion and rested her head to the side. She look out the window and sighed. The moon was very bright and full. The light filled up most of the living space easily. She could see many stars out and their serene twinkling seemed ironic. Such a peaceful night would have been something to enjoy in the past. Just a few weeks ago, before all this evil carnage started, she was on her back porch, drinking wine and listening to the stereo. It was a very similar night to this one. She had won a big case, and instead of going out, she wanted to be alone, at home, worrying about nothing for a few days. She was happy and humming along to the music. The quiet, the moon, and stars were the so similar that night to this, but her conditions were now extremely different. She obviously was never going to enjoy such a night again. Not in this cramped, stinky, old RV. Not in these hot, threatening Georgia woods. And not without music, Pinot Grigio, and her wooden rocking chair. Not without Amy.

Running her hands through her hair, she tried again to compose herself. She closed the curtain on the window. She couldn't help herself, and started to cry again.

Daryl Dixon had been cleaning his crossbow when he saw Andrea stand up and walk hurriedly in the direction of the RV. Her back was to him as she walked away, but her uncomfortable stride gave much away. He frowned, and lowered his crossbow to the ground in front of him. Capping the grease bottle, he put the greasy rag he had been using in his back pocket as he rose to get a better view of the camp. Kicking up some dirt as he moved away from his lawn chair, he lowered his gaze to the ground. He stopped, thought twice, and turned around to retrieve his bow.

_You never know…might need it. _

Daryl had been thinking to himself about his weapon a lot lately. He knew people depended on him for his hunting and tracking skills, not to mention his _Walker _hunting skills. His crossbow had saved many a person from those things. It hadn't saved one person last night, though. And he felt terrible for that. He should've been there to save the group from the walker onslaught. He could've helped that poor girl make it through the night. Through saving her, he would've saved her sister from the heavy grief she was going through right now.

Andrea's sorrow had not escaped his notice. How could it? She was extremely quiet, depressed since that night. Normally, she was quiet, but didn't have such intense pain in her eyes. The happy look she would give her sister, and the subdued intellect he saw in her smile was absent. It was not likely to come back any time soon.

The RV door slammed shut then, and he woke from his own thoughts to see that Andrea had retreated inside. That woman was in pain, and wanted to escape this place, even if it was just away from the sympathetic eyes of her fellow campers.

Daryl looked around the camp again, and his eyes stopped on the Grimes family. Lori and Rick were outside their tent, speaking in hushed voices. Except for Lori's goodnight wish to Andrea, he couldn't hear what else she or her husband were saying.

Carol was not around, but probably putting away the rest of the night's clean dishes and pots. T-Dog was most likely burying the garbage from dinner in their compost heap off to the north, a few yards from the camp. In fact, Daryl heard some shoveling now that he thought about it. Dale was on the roof of the RV, his second most prized-possession after his rife, and had noticed Andrea's exit, but didn't stop her. Dale saw Daryl looking at him, and gave a slight smile and nod. Daryl nodded back and continued on his trek around the camp.

His thought wandered back to Andrea and her now dead sister. Daryl has a sibling too, but didn't know if he was dead or alive. Merle had been gone for a while now after he had been forced to saw off his own hand from Rick's police handcuffs to get away from a mob of geeks in the city. What an awful sight to see your own brother's hand lying in it's own pool of blood. He and some of the other guys had gone back to help Merle after T-Dog had lost the handcuff keys on accident. But, Merle had no patience, especially with a group of geeks gnashing and growling at you through five inches of bolted door space. It must have been sickening. What choice would Daryl have made? Merle was a bad-ass, and did what he had to do to survive. That as always his way. Merle had taught his younger brother a lot about that way of life.

Now he and Andrea had something in common. They both were missing their siblings. At least Daryl had a chance to see his brother alive again. There was a big chance that Merle got away, and was ok. The proof was in the burns and stolen vehicle they noticed on their way down the building. But Andrea would not be with her sister ever again. It looked like that was too much to bear for her, and Daryl was worried.

As he made his way over to the last bits of fire still burning in the center of camp, he threw another log on top, so it wouldn't go completely out until his patrol was done. Daryl's eyes followed the sparks up into the air as they faded away into the night sky above. He trailed one particular spark until it flew in front of the moon, to which his gaze switched. The moon was clear and beautiful tonight. The luminous stars were a nice accent to the bright celestial body. Daryl heard Carl laugh, and turned his head to see what was so funny. Rick was hugging the boy then, and messed the top of his head, while Lori moved inside their tent with her son. Rick, an officer of the law, gave a smirk to Daryl.

"Goodnight Daryl. Thanks for all your hard work today," Rick said to Daryl.

"Yeah, no prob. G'night Rick," Daryl replied with a wave of his crossbow. Rick glanced at the RV, then Daryl, and finally went inside after his family.

Daryl looked down at the fire again, and noticed a stick, perfect for fire poking, lying in the outskirt of the ashes. He picked it up, and drew a star in the dirt. After a few more attempts at making a perfect one, he tossed it down and rubbed his faced with his free hand. It was getting late, and fatigue was getting to him. After a few moments of lingering by the fire, Daryl continued around the camp, but soon stopped short of the back of the RV, when he heard sobbing from within.

It had to be Andrea. She was finally letting her sadness go. Daryl stopped by the side of the vehicle and leaned against the cold siding. He felt bad for eavesdropping on her grief. Should he climb atop to chat with Dale? Should he go back to his lawn chair? Or should he go inside and comfort Andrea?

He really wanted to comfort Andrea. She was alone, and needed support. He could empathize with her, maybe say something meaningful and tender.

_Yeah right, you would just fuck it up. Prob'ly say somethin' to make her feel worse._

Daryl couldn't make out if that was Merle talking or himself. He wasn't known for being tender, or meaningful at that. Most of the folks in the camp thought he was a dumb hick, with an attitude problem. That didn't stop them from eating the squirrel he always brought back for them.

Anyway, it was probably best that her tears give her relief, not his simple words. He righted himself from the side of the RV, and moved off with silent steps to get some rest in his own tent.

He unzipped his tent flap, and stepped inside. With one last look at the moon, he hoped Andrea would see it too, and find some peace from it.

After what seemed like an eternity, Andrea lifted her head once more from her hands. This time she didn't wipe her tears, but let them dry on her face, sticky and salty. She felt better. Not great, but a little better. She needed that, badly. She stood, and started shuffling to the back to lie down. Something made her stop in her tracks. She lifted her blonde head slowly. She then turned on her heel, moving back to the table. She leaned over it and pulled the curtain open.

The moon was too beautiful tonight to shut out it's light. Her warm breath left a fog on the glass as she exhaled loudly. She drew a star in her breath. Amazingly, a tiny smile graced her lips. She turned back around, and had a strange feeling that tonight she would get some peaceful sleep.

The End.


End file.
